The estate burned, not in flame but in sound.
War horns echoed beyond the walls, low and thunderous, rolling across the city like a warning meant for gods and mortals alike. Guards ran through the courtyards, armor clashing, voices raised in panic. Church banners appeared at the far gates, white and gold snapping in the wind.
And at the center of it all, Kael stood alone.
Blood dried dark on his hands. His clothes were torn, his body screaming in protest, but his eyes were clear for the first time since the hunger had awakened.
Eron was gone, not dead, not taken. Gone.
Kael felt the absence as a limb ripped away.
He closed his eyes, breathing in slowly, carefully. Every instinct urged him to act the way he once had—to seize control, to dominate the field, to remind the world what a D
